One For Truth, The Other For Lies
by TheGreatAmazingBanana
Summary: Pitted against the Lord of Darkness and tasked with stopping the rise of the dreaded castle, Cheshire is convinced to join a group of heroes in order to pay off an old debt. But her gift and her curse draws some unwanted attention...
1. Chapter 1

**Hello All!**

**Castlevania is easily one of my favorite series of just about anything. I thought it was time to write my own little story. Mostly to just get it out of my head, but hopefully someone out there enjoys it! It's currently rated T for teen, but will evolve to M later. I'll post warnings when it gets there, don't worry.)**

**This isn't based on any particular game, but Castlevania in general. The characters I DON'T own should be pretty apparent. If you enjoy, pop me a line so I know someone's listening.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"This… is an extraordinarily bad idea," she muttered under her breath. Apparently just loud enough for Shane to overhear, even over the rain that seemed to make the night all the gloomier.

"If you want to turn around and go back, you are more than welcome," he bit from inside his helm. His voice was muffled and tinny sounding from inside the metal that fully obscured his face, but she didn't need any help to know he was glaring at her. "Do try to have a little _faith,_" he finished bitterly.

"Watch yourself, boy. Isabel's only guilty of saying what most of us are thinking," grumbled Yoseph, the older man to Shane's left. Yoseph pulled back the hood of his cloak and looked back at her with a 'please stop making this worse,' expression. Isabel sighed, and looked away, wishing she hadn't opened her mouth.

"The castle is… certainly impressive," the young girl to Isabel's left chimed in, and shot her a beaming and kind smile. _Ah, Sarah, the healer, always trying to make everything better. _Isabel did her best to smile back, and hoped it didn't look too fake. But it was hard to be genuine, considering the circumstances.

Looking back up at the 'impressive' castle, Isabel felt the dread well up in her again. It cut a sharp contrast against the gloomy sky, even in the darkness of the rain, the slight glow of the moonlight gave it the appearance of jagged, broken nails clawing at the sky. It spinnerets and bridges promised danger - and a lot of walking. _And a lot of getting lost,_ Isabel commented to herself.

"Yoseph, we should move on," added the voice of the final companion in their group - Larissa. Her regal statue was impervious to even the rain, it seemed, her hair carefully braided hair coiled underneath the hood of her cloak.

"Agreed. We shouldn't linger," Yoseph reminded, and nudged his heavy boots into the sides of his horse, and the group trod on ahead. With each plod of the horse's hooves into the muck, the animals became more and more on edge - Isabel couldn't blame them.

They trod on in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, until a wolf howled from the woods to their right. That was enough for the horses. Yoseph's steed bucked, whinnied and tossed it's head. Isabel's horse side-stepped, and danced nervously.

"We may have to continue on foot," Shane growled from underneath his helmet, gripping the reins of his horse.

"Don't be silly," Yoseph laughed half-heartedly. "We'd never make it on foot. But we have another plan." Yoseph patted the neck of his horse, who wasn't buying it, and tossed its head back and forth, snorting in fear.

"And what's that, fly?!" Shane shot back.

"We wish. We didn't pack for that," Yoseph shot back a grin to Shane and the others - even in the darkness you could see the mischief on his grizzled features. "Isabel, could you fix this?"

She sighed. She knew that was about to happen. She paused, not sure what to say. Isabel was always loathe to 'put on shows,' but…

In her hesitation, Yoseph began speaking again. "Come on, now, this is why you're coming along with us," he chided gently.

"I'm 'coming along with you,' because I owe the Order a favor," Isabel bit back, narrowing her eyes at the older man. Her horse whipped its head back and tried to turn around on the path, but she yanked the reins and tried to face it back in the correct direction - she succeeded in only stopping the horse perpendicular to the path. She was never any good with horses. That's why cars were invented, right? Isabel took out her frustration in Yoseph's direction. "I'm not here because I want to be."

"At least none of us want you here," Shane growled at her. Isabel narrowed her eyes at the armored man, but didn't respond.

"Shane, leave her be," Yoseph scolded. "Isabel, darling, we need to reach the castle. We can't go on foot. That leaves us two options. Turn around - which isn't happening - and having you 'fix' the situation - in your unique special way."

Isabel shut her eyes and sighed. "Alright…"

Yoseph smiled. "Good girl."

Isabel shot him a look at that, but let it slide. The old man was well-meaning, if gruff and stuck in his ways. She tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear that had come loose in the rain. She placed her hand on the horse's neck, and letting out a low breath, she reached out - not with her hand. But her mind.

Isabel had not been asked on this fool's errand. She had not been _asked_ to join the convoy of 'heroes' that sought to 'investigate and destroy' the castle that had appeared in the Hungarian mountainside. The Order did not 'ask' anyone to do anything. It summoned, and then it commanded. And Isabel… wasn't in the position to refuse.

Vampire hunting. Really, that was what they had asked her to do. To join a group of 'vampire hunters' out to destroy the 'Lord of Darkness.' Isabel had tried not to laugh when they dramatically read that out to her in the halls of the Order's monastery. Now, Isabel believed in magic and all things that could not be seen. She herself was an example of the less-mundane in this world. But… vampires. They were myth. Rumor. Children's fables. And some magical appearing mystical castle of evil housing the Lord of Darkness and King of all vampires? Isabel was want to doubt such things. And yet, she agreed to join the group to pay a debt.

And so, their convoy was assembled. Yoseph Van Buren, the grizzled warrior - and the only man alive who witnessed the castle's appearance fifty years ago. Sarah, the healer, who couldn't have been older than nineteen, with her bright blue eyes and charming smile. Larissa, who was one of the Order's own. Born and raised to be a vampire hunter - as ridiculous as that sounded. Larissa was beautiful - almost too beautiful to be real - and a sorceress. She had seen the woman launch orbs of ice from her hand like it was nothing. Isabel wouldn't ever admit it out loud, but… she was a tiny bit jealous.

And then there was _Shane._ Who had no problem expressing his distaste of anything. The Paladin. The Warrior of God. The walking toaster-oven. The man was wearing full plate armor, hiding every ounce of the man from the rain. The metal glistened in the rain and the dim light, and she thought idly that it had to be very humid inside that helmet. Shane walked the Righteous Path, and… had a problem with Isabel.

'The Liar,' he called her. It burned. The names always burned. 'Witch, liar, demon, monster,' she had heard them all. The Order called her 'the illusionist,' but… it wasn't really the truth. Illusions could only be seen. Isabel's power went much - _much_ - deeper than that.

She reached into the minds of the horses, and resculpted their reality. She changed the world around them - how they saw it - felt it - _smelled it. _She whispered into their minds a world where the sun was shining, the grass was green and the path ahead was clear. She soothed their fear, told them that what they had just seen was a dream - and that they were now safe.

Isabel opened her eyes and watched as the horses instantly calmed, sniffed the air, and watched one horse playfully bite at an imaginary butterfly that flitted past its nose. Isabel's heart broke. She highly doubted the horses were going to live through this trip.

"That's better," Yoseph chuckled. "Come on."

And with that, they rode. The horses moved faster now, not afraid of where they stepped or where they were headed. They knew nothing of the encroaching darkness - they only saw the beautiful sunny field that smelled of spring.

They rode the horses hard - and for Isabel, who wasn't used to horses - it was excruciating. She winced each time they jumped over a fallen log. The horses were tiring, sweating as they moved as fast as they could towards the looming castle.

"We have to keep moving Isabel - we have to reach the castle," Yoseph yelled back over his shoulder. His instructions were clear. 'Don't let the horses stop.'

It was cruel - but they wouldn't feel the pain. The horses ran on, blind to their own exhaustion and suffering. It went on for what felt like hours - the driving pain, the rain, the darkness that surrounded them.

Finally, after Isabel had been convinced that they would run like this forever, they burst into a clearing. The sound of hooves in muck changed to hooves on stone. The five riders found themselves on a stone road - a large, iron wrought gate loomed up ahead of them.

"Dismount," Yoseph yelled.

Isabel basically fell from her horse, landing hard on the stone as her legs couldn't support her weight. She groaned in pain, and heard Yoseph chuckle. "City girl, huh?" he chided playfully.

"Ow," was all Isabel could respond.

"You'll be alright. Bruised, maybe. Well, you could just whip up an illusion to make the pain go away, right?" Yoseph grinned.

"It doesn't work on myself," Isabel responded dryly. "You know that."

"Eh, I suppose that wouldn't work at all, would it. Too bad for you, I suppose." Yoseph offered her a gloved hand to pull her from the stone, and she accepted it. The older man was stronger than he looked, and easily hefted her to her feet.

"The horses," Sarah began, having climbed down from her mount - and laying her hands on the neck of the sweating beast. "They aren't well…"

"We rode too hard," Shane began. "They won't make it."

"I could-" Sarah began, hopefully.

"No, Sarah… You need to save your strength for the rest of us. The horses have done their part," Yoseph interjected.

"But-"

"No, Sarah."

The young healer sighed and walked away, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders against the cold. Isabel shook her head and turned her attention to the large iron gate. It had been created in the shapes of demons - and humans - twisting in horrible shapes up towards the top. The demons were rendering various… tortures… on the humans - whose iron faces screamed in silent terror. She heard Sarah whimper and turn her face away at the depictions on the gate.

"Meant to scare off the weak minded," Yoseph said as he patted the young girl on the shoulder. He walked up to the iron gate and gave it a shove. It didn't move. "I suppose that would have been too easy," he grumbled.

"Stand away," Larissa said, her voice level and calm. Isabel turned in time to see her right hand burst into fire - and her left into ice. They all backed away as Larissa launched the ball of fire at the iron. It roared in an explosion as it impacted the metal, and its frame swung with the impact. The metal glowed bright. Larissa launched the second bolt of ice at the iron - and Isabel ducked reflexively as the iron of the gate - first heated then frozen - shattered as if it were glass. The pieces of iron rained to the ground.

Sarah cheered.

Isabel tried not to laugh at the young girl. She didn't want to remind her that she shouldn't be _excited_ that they were about to cross the threshold into the castle. Vampires or no vampires - this place felt _wrong_. The clawing at her gut, telling her to run, was almost overwhelming. But she had promised to pay her debt.

"Come on, then."

"We just… leave the horses?" Sarah asked quietly.

"Yes, Sarah," Yoseph said firmly.

The young girl sighed and pouted - her eyes filled with sorrow as she looked back at the horses. Isabel still held their illusion strong - but once she was out of sight of the horses, it would break. She tried not to dwell on what would happen to them when that happened… There was nothing to be done.

They walked through the courtyard and it… was silent, save for their footfalls on the stone. She had expected something to attack them - after all the talk of monsters and demons, it seemed wrong that it looked so empty.

Shane had drawn his sword - a gleaming steel blade with a golden hilt in the shape of the archangel Michael. It was gaudy, Isabel thought, but she wasn't a Paladin, so what did she know?

Shane took the lead, and Isabel found herself walking in the back, really if anything to avoid eye contact with any of the others. She wasn't a social creature - she tried to stick to herself, and it made her uncomfortable to be around people. Her 'gift' had formed at young age - and it bred mistrust in others. And if she wasn't welcome company, she wasn't going to force it on anyone. And then there was the _other_ reason people didn't trust her.

"Shane'll warm up to you," Yoseph said. Isabel jumped, startled out of her thoughts as she realized the older man was walking next to her.

"I doubt it," she replied quietly. They were still crossing the massive stone courtyard, towards the gates of the castle that loomed ahead of them. It seemed impossibly large. "I'd ask why he doesn't like me, but… I think I know."

"He was told of what you could do - they all were told, when we started off on this," Yoseph sighed. "It's not every day you meet someone who can rearrange someone's entire reality on a whim."

Isabel shook her head. "That's not enough of a reason. They told them all what I didn't, didn't they." Only silence from Yoseph. She shut her eyes and let out a small sigh. "Then it's pointless. No one here will ever trust me."

"Aye, it'll be a hard struggle," Yoseph responded sadly. "But you can't blame them."

"No, I don't. I'll do what I can to help you all - with whatever it is we're really here to do - and… Maybe if you're all lucky, I won't live through this," she laughed darkly.

"Now don't talk like that," Yoseph put his hand on Isabel's shoulder. It would have been more comforting if it hadn't been through his gloves, her soaked cloak, and her coat - but it was a nice gesture. "The Order knew you'd be important. You'll be what gets us past the worst of them - when some succubus is riding Shane like a pony, you'll be the only one who can snap him out of it."

"Ew… thanks for the mental image," Isabel crinkled her nose and snickered.

Yoseph laughed, clearly glad he broke her out of her mood. "You make them nervous - they know they can't stop you, if you decided to mess with their worlds."

"And the eyes don't help," Isabel sighed.

"Probably not, no. I'm used to it. They'll take time."

Isabel half-smirked at the older man. She had known Yoseph for many years… ever since the Order had helped her. Ever since she owed them a debt. Yoseph was a 'priest' (the priests of the Order were a far different breed than the usual kind, trained with weaponry and taught to battle demons) - had been for thirty years since he had seen the fall of the castle in the 70's.

It was more for Yoseph's sake that she agreed to join. She would do what she could to help the closest thing she had to a friend in a long, long time. And the only person who could look her in the eyes and not look away.

One eye to see the truth. The other to see the lies.

When she altered the reality of something or someone - when she took control of their senses and, to some extent, their memory - and weaved her 'illusions,' she could half-see what she created for them. Laid over the real world like a transparency. The Order believed - and she had no reason to suspect their theory - that her one eye was discolored due to her gift. That through her amber-colored eye, she saw the real world. And through her other eye.. which was pure white, save for the black pupil in the middle, she saw the reality she created. It was unsettling, she was told.

Yoseph patted her on the back, and sighed softly. "You have to make up for what you did, to be forgiven in the eyes of God," he said. "They will shun you until that happens, and you must understand why."

"I understand," Isabel replied. "I don't have to like it," she finished.

Yoseph laughed. "Aye, that's quite true."

"I do not believe my magic will work this time," Larissa interjected.

Their conversation was cut short as they had reached the base of the stairs that lead to the impossibly-tall gate to the castle. It was carved in a similar fashion to the gate - twisted figures burnt into the wood, a warning and a celebration of what was inside.

Isabel wrapped her arms around herself as she looked at the gate and had the distinct sensation that it was looking _back_.

Shane was climbing the stairs, his heavy metal boots thunking on the stone as he approached the door. He gave them a shove - and they didn't budge. He held his sword high and yelled. "In the name of our Holy Father, I command you to open!"

Nothing happened.

Isabel tried not to laugh, and had to turn her head to stifle her snickering.

"Open these gates, demon!"

Nothing happened.

Shane snarled, and slammed the hilt of his sword into the door. Something crackled, and a blinding flash of light where it had met the door sent the armored man flying back, skidding on the stone as he struggled to stop his fall. Shane swore, and that was too much for Isabel.

She couldn't help but laugh. That was too much for the Paladin, already embarrassed that he couldn't open the door. Isabel's laugh was cut short in a yelp as the armored man wrapped a fist around the front of her cloak and yanked her towards his face. "If you find it so very funny, do you have any other suggestions, _demon?!_"

"She's not a demon, Shane," Yoseph half-yelled at the Paladin. "And unhand her, she is not the enemy."

Isabel was never the smartest person when it came to keeping her mouth shut. She had long since learned that being the cynical wise-ass was more suited to her skillset than being the friendly one. "Have you ever tried asking nicely?"

Shane snarled from inside his helmet - his face hidden behind the emblazoned golden cross on the helm. "You are suggesting that I _ask for entry?!" _

"I'm saying it can't hurt to try to be _nice_ for once. How about saying; 'Please open the door!'"

"I should-" Shane began to threaten her again, but stopped at the sound of a large, metallic 'THUNK' caught his attention. Turning his head, they watched as the door slowly swung open. The giant wooden frame didn't even so much as creak as the doors parted, revealing a darkened foyer behind.

"See? I told you so," Isabel finished with a spiteful grin, unable to not have the last laugh.

"It opened for its own kind," Shane snarled in her face before releasing her and storming to the head of the group to enter the castle.

Isabel was shaking - the adrenaline and anger coursing through her. She pulled the cloak tighter around herself to try and stifle it. Great. The jackass assumed she was a demon already, and now the door opened when she asked it to. Either she had awful luck, or someone had a sick sense of humor.

"Try not to provoke him, would you?" Yoseph asked as they began to follow the enraged Paladin.

"Provoke _him? _He does it all on his own," she shot back.

"It's not wise to laugh at a man with a sword," Yoseph scolded.

"He called me a demon, and that's fine. I laugh at him, and it's my fault he was going to knock my lights out," Isabel hissed angrily at the older man. "You play favorites, old man, I hope you're aware of that."

"Shane is our only hope in defeating this evil," Yoseph replied.

"That's no kind of answer."

"I'm saying that he can't help but be that way. _You _can help the situation by not laughing at him."

Isabel growled quietly. "Fine." She paused as they followed Shane inside. It was wonderful to be out of the rain, even if they had just walked into the 'den of evil' as the Order called it. It was… beautiful, in a strange way. Its gothic architecture soared up into the darkness of the vaulted ceiling. Tapestries hung down from the stone archways, tattered with age and and faded. They swung idly in the breeze that flowed in from outside, the wind rustling a few papers tucked into the corners. The place looked abandoned. Isabel looked back at her 'friend' again. "Aren't you going to wonder why the door opened?"

"Someone was listening," Yoseph replied quietly. "We have had eyes on us since we rode into the forest." His hand was on his gun, as his eyes scanned the darkness.

"There's no one here," Sarah piped up - she and Larissa had watched the fight without involvement. "Maybe we can go home?"

"I would not get your hopes up, little one," Larissa said gently, placing her hand on the healer's shoulder. "It allowed us inside… we are not alone."

"Very astute, of all of you," said a male voice from the top of the stairs in the center of the foyer. A man stood there, tall, rail-thin, and impossibly pale. His eyes glinted red from underneath his short white hair. He was dressed in a tailored suit, the vest a brilliant purple set against dark grey. He bowed low at the waist and flashed a sly grin. "Allow me to introduce myself… I am Lord Crendo - and my lord Dracula welcomes you to his home…"


	2. Chapter 2

**If you like, drop me a line! So I know if anyone's out there. :) I build stories at a slower pace, so we may not meet all the players for another chapter. Stick around, it'll be good.**

**Chapter two - enjoy! **

* * *

Cheshire wasn't sure what she was expecting. Whatever it was, it was not a rain of bullets and to be forcibly shoved behind a statue. Her head bounced off the wall and she groaned as she tried to make sense of what was happening. It was a flurry of untrackable motion and noise.

"I am Lord Crendo… and my lord Dracula welcomes you to his home."

That is where it had gone wrong. The skinny guy at the top of the stairs. Shane had yelled something about 'to arms' and 'vampire!' and then all hell broke loose. The sound of battle was raging around her - steel on steel, the screams of… something inhuman. She finally shook her head hard enough to gather her wits, and stood up from where she had landed behind the statue. Cheshire hissed air in sharply at what she saw.

No, she most certainly wasn't expecting _this._

Creatures - part skeleton, part flesh, part… _something else. _They had risen up from the floor at the command at the 'man' at the top of the stairs. A few lay strewn, dead, around the floor. A severed arm lay on the floor near her - cut clean through, and she could guess by whom. Larissa shouted words in some other tongue, the floor lighting up with magical flames. Even Sarah looked locked in the battle, tendrils of white light flowing from her fingertips from where she stood.

Yoseph, meanwhile, was raining bullets on anything that even looked askance at him or his teammates. And there was Cheshire… standing, dumbstruck against the wall.

"Enough of this!" Crendo shouted. He disappeared in a swirl of black mist - and appeared behind Sarah. The young girl screamed as the man wrapped his long, pale and sharpened-nailed fingers around her throat and lifted her from the ground like she was nothing. He hissed and bared his fangs.

_Vampire._

That was all Cheshire could get through her mind.

Crendo leaned in for the kill - no one was close enough to stop him - Sarah was screaming.

"No!" Cheshire yelled. Reflex took over - she reached into the vampire's mind. Crendo froze, and blinked. His brow furrowed in confusion, and he opened his hand. Sarah collapsed to the floor as the perplexed vampire whirled around, seemingly looking for something.

"Where did she go?!" he snarled through his fangs.

"Run, Sarah," Cheshire cried loudly. "I don't know how long I can keep him…" The girl luckily didn't argue, and scrambled to her feet. To Cheshire's shock, the young girl ran to her, and hid behind her like she was a shield.

"Where did they all go?!" Crendo howled. "This is impossible!"

"What did you do?" Sarah asked from behind her.

"He can't see us… can't see anyone. As far as he knows, he's in an empty room... You just vanished in front of him," she replied quietly.

"Clever!"

"It was the first thing that came to mind," Cheshire smiled faintly.

Crendo sniffed the air, trying to find their scent but… nothing. Her illusion held. It was harder than the horses but… she was surprised how easy it was to control the vampire's mind. _Caught him unaware,_ she guessed.

Shane had pulled his blade from a corpse of one of the monsters, and turned his attention to the vampire. "Stand and face me!" he howled at the vampire.

"He can't hear you," Cheshire replied. "I'm blocking him from seeing us. Just… just kill him, before I lose control of him."

"It is dishonorable to-"

"Oh for the love of Saint Pete, just _kill the bastard!" _Yoseph yelled, having run out of bullets and now using two short swords against one of the monsters. Larissa stopped the monster's advance with a dagger of ice that flew from her hand, impaling the thing through the throat, and pinning it to the wall. Blood splurted from the wound, gushing at the release of pressure. But it still wasn't enough to kill it. As it still kicked and snarled, Yoseph silenced the monster quickly enough and drove his blades through the things eyes and into its skull. Finally, the beast stopped twitching.

Shane stepped forward, and in three strides, swung his sword like a bat and cleaved the vampire's head clean from its neck. It screamed and howled as it fell to the ground in a pile of dust, burning up in the aftermath of the paladin's blade. The vampire hadn't seen it coming - had been utterly unaware of what had happened to him. Cheshire let out a small sigh of relief.

Sarah hugged her arm, beaming up at her. "That was awesome! You saved me, thank you!"

Cheshire smiled back and was surprised at how genuine her smile was. That was the first time anyone in a long time had ever thanked her for anything, and she wasn't going to let it go unnoticed. "You're welcome," she said with a small chuckle.

"Oh! Larissa, you're hurt!" Sarah bounded away to help the other woman, whose arm was gashed in the attack. The little healer bounced from one thought to the other with alarming speed.

"I don't like fighting from the shadows," Shane complained to anyone who would listen.

"You'll have plenty of opportunity to show them just how good you are," Yoseph sighed and wiped blood from his sword. The last of the monsters had been felled. "Take your opportunities where you can get them. They'll be few and far between, boy."

"Hrmph," was the paladin's response as he cleaned his blade off on a piece of tapestry and slipped the blade back into his holster. Cheshire leaned against the base of the statue, lost in thought - trying to digest what she had just seen.

"First fight?" Larissa asked her from where she stood, the wound on her arm being slowly pulled back together by the magic of Sarah. The little healer was gifted - the wound was slowly closing like it had never existed.

"Yeah," Cheshire responded after a pause. "I'm not… I've never seen a fight before," she admitted quietly.

The paladin scoffed.

"You reacted well," Larissa responded, which Cheshire took as a true compliment. The statuesque woman rarely smiled or spoke, so a word of kindness was likely truthfully meant. "But it is good to know you are not weapons trained."

Cheshire just shook her head, and let her still-damp hair fall forward to obscure her face.

"C'mon, then, we've only just started," Yoseph said as he walked up the stairs, loading his revolvers. "We have a long… long way to go."

He wasn't kidding.

* * *

It had been days… Or at least, Cheshire assumed it had been days. It was hard to track time when the sun never rose. The moon made it's rotation through the sky, but it was never matched by its brighter counterpart. So, she tried to track time through the few hours of sleep that they could get when they made camp, or by looking at the occasional clock that they passed.

So, by her estimate, they had been in the castle for four days… maybe six. It was really hard to tell. Their battles went in a similar fashion to the first one - big monsters, lots of blood, some of it theirs. Each area of the castle that they explored was more spectacular than the last, in it's own unique way. Currently they had found themselves in a gigantic library, and Shane was tossing books into a flame to warm the cold, damp stone halls.

"This is a sin, to burn books," Larissa complained from where she sat. It was the tail end of an hours-long argument between the sorceress and the paladin about whether or not they should burn the books. The paladin proved to be the logical one here - but the sorceress insisted on reading through every volume before it met the flames.

Cheshire wouldn't complain, and didn't take either side. She just enjoyed the fire. The castle, so far, proved to be more cold than anything else. An unending damp chill bit them to the core. Sarah was shivering, huddled as close to the flames as the girl could without catching fire.

Cheshire shrugged off the heavy, damp cloak that she had been given by the Order, and joined the younger girl by the flames to try and bake off some chill.

* * *

Shane tried not to look. He tried to keep to his task of polishing his blade and his armor. But it was hard. By the saints, it was hard.

_Why am I to be faced with such temptation, here in the den of all evil? _He complained to himself. _Why would they send me on this task surrounded by _women? And here he was, with an angel and a devil as his companions.

Larissa - the beautiful statue. The stunning woman of ice and fire, who looked to be carved of pure marble. She was purity itself, raised by the Order for this singular cause. And yet, Shane - who was raised by the Order for the same cause - could never come close to reaching her. Indeed the closest he had ever come was arguing with her about the practicality of burning the books.

And there was his devil… the demon woman, the illusionist and the liar. Cheshire. The woman was leaning up against a rotted bookcase, her eyes half-shut as she dozed in the warmth of the fire. The red flames cast shadows on her face. Where Larissa was a cold statue, carved perfection - Cheshire had a sultriness to her that burned at Shane's soul. Her lips were full, and curved, and her mismatched eyes stared into his soul - stared through his mind. She must know his thoughts with how deep her eyes would stare. It was why they unnerved him so.

All four of them were from the Order - Yoseph, Sarah, Larissa and himself. The outcast was this woman, the demon, the _murderer. _He resented her for this, amongst many other reasons. The woman's dark hair fell in soft waves along her face - long in the front, short in the back, cutting a sharp angle across her pale shoulders. She was ill-dressed for such an adventure which bespoke her absolute lack of battle experience. A black tank-top with some manner of black-and-sheer striped top pulled tight over it.

Shane couldn't help but stare at the bits of skin that he could see through the sheer stripes. Shane scolded himself, but there was little he could do. He was raised in the purity of the Order - not allowed to fraternize with women, not ever. So he felt some part of indignancy towards the other part of his mind that railed against his perversion.

"Get some sleep, boy," Yoseph spoke up from his side. "Before your eyes fall out of your head," he chuckled.

Shane grumbled and folded his arms across his chest as he laid back. "Your turn, finally?"

"I suppose so. At least I'll stop burning a hole into the ladies," he laughed quietly.

"I was not-"

"Don't blame you, boy. Raised in a Monastery. Enjoy the view, I say," Yoseph chuckled again.

Shane stared at his older companion, agog that his fellow member of the Order would say something so… brash.

"Oh, come now, don't look at me like that," Yoseph said with a smirk. "You can't adhere to the laws so tightly, boy, you'll die without experiencing half of life. But there's no harm in looking, trust me." Yoseph shoved him playfully in the arm. "Now get some sleep."

Shane watched the older man for a few moments before finally laying back and trying to get comfortable against his makeshift pillow (which was once a collection of dictionaries.) "Good night," he said after a moment.

"See you in a few hours."

* * *

It had been another two days of travel. Another two hours of walking - fighting - walking - fighting - sleeping - lather - rinse - repeat. Cheshire was beginning to lose her mind. Although the hunger and the thirst wasn't helping. They were not short on rations, but the exertion was starting to wear on them all. Well, everyone except Yoseph, who looked like he was utterly in his element.

Cheshire sighed to herself, and clutched her cloak closer to herself. She really wished she had brought a change of clothes. She didn't expect that they would here for going on a week now - of brutal fights and walking.

They had not seen another vampire - not _really_ - since Lord Crendo. They had faced monstrous things with fangs, who ate meat and blood and bone alike, but for a 'castle of vampires,' the level of vampires were remarkably low. Cheshire couldn't understand why, but she was somehow, in some part of herself, disappointed. The monsters were… fascinating in their own right, but there was something that intrigued her about the vampires - now that she knew they were _real._

But she had larger concerns right now.

They had been crossing a long and arduous bridge for the last half an hour. It wouldn't have been so bad if the bridge hadn't been half-falling apart. Cheshire was clutching to a piece of metal that had once been a railing hard enough that her knuckles turned white. She tried not to look down - she tried not to look into the abyss beneath her. They were in the midst of crossing a hole in the bridge that had blown one side straight out - only a twisted metal and bits of rock along the other side kept the two halves connected. And here they were, trying to cross.

"What, demon, are you afraid?" Shane called from behind her. Cheshire inched her way along the broken piece of stone, sliding her hands along the piece of metal step by step. The wind whipped up at her and she tried not to shriek as it whipped past her face. "I'll carry you if you need it," he yelled again.

Cheshire had a fear of falling. A horrible one. She was shaking, and only adrenaline kept her hands gripping the railing. But like hell she was going to admit it.

"Bite me, tin can," Cheshire snapped back as she kept nudging along. The paladin only laughed in response, and was very clearly beaming from underneath his helm at her suffering.

Finally, after eons of slow progress, they reached the other side of the shattered gulf in the bridge. She staggered onto the more level stones and almost collapsed to her knees. But she couldn't let Shane see her weakness - any more than the look on her face already did.

She made her way to a statue, and leaned up against it to catch her breath, trying to calm her heart as it threatened to pound her way out of her throat. She was alright with heights - if she knew she was safe. If she didn't trust it… oh, it was horrible. Her body had seized up on her several times, and only the insults from the paladin kept her moving. She wasn't going to prove him right.

Finally, her heart seemed to stop its progress out her throat and simmered back down to a functional level. Taking a wavering breath, she finally joined her companions where they had gathered not far away. Thankfully, they had let her put herself back together without pestering her. Really, her motivation was a desire to get off this bridge, and quickly. The wind was still whipping - and every time it did, her heart made a move to leap into her throat again.

"I say we camp here," Shane said - and she could hear the grin on his face even behind the helmet.

"Play nice," Yoseph scolded. "I swear, you kids'll be the death of me," he finished with a cynical smile.

"Camping would be nice, though?" Sarah added hopefully. "Not - not here-" she added at the look that Cheshire shot her. "But.. but, close?"

Shane laughed. "Yes, close, but somewhere less… high," the paladin finished, clearly still pleased with himself.

Cheshire would have complained or spoken up for herself - but it was a waste. Let the man have his fun, she supposed. Pulling her cloak - which was _still somehow damp -_ tighter around herself, she followed after the group. Yoseph hung back to walk with her.

There was a long silence as they walked. "You alright, kiddo?"

"I don't trust heights."

"I could see that," he replied. "We all have our fears."

"I wish…" she sighed. "Never mind."

"What?"

"I wish Shane wouldn't hound me constantly. I wish he didn't hate me."

Yoseph sighed. "He doesn't hate you, Ches…" he said after a moment, using an nickname of hers for the first time in a long time. "He just… you make him nervous. He's afraid of you, he won't admit it."

Cheshire scoffed. "Afraid, why?"

"If you… decided you wanted to control him… you could. He couldn't stop you. When you look at people - you look _into_ them, girl. It's unnerving. I'm used to it. Some people aren't. He probably doesn't trust the fact that you _haven't_ mucked with his world already," Yoseph said with a small shrug.

"If I had 'mucked with his world' - as you put it - I'd make him a friendly disposition. … At least towards me," Cheshire growled. "You know I haven't gone into the heads of _any_ of you. Only that vampire, and that other… big.. thing… that tried to eat Shane, and _still_ he doesn't trust me. I haven't done anything to him."

"I know, I know. I know you haven't gone mucking around with us. But he doesn't. Sarah seems to have taken a liking to you. Larissa doesn't like anybody, so don't feel bad," he added with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

She shook her head again. "I don't think I'll convince him."

"Maybe you will, maybe you won't. I wouldn't worry about it overmuch," he said with a smile. "He's a softie, somewhere under all those layer of metal and attitude."

"I'll have to take your word for it," she said with a faint smile. "Who knows… there's hope for anything I suppose."

* * *

"You insufferable _asshole!_" She snarled at the paladin. He had gone too far.

"Why don't you want to speak of your past? Or does it bother you too much to talk about the lives you've taken, _demon?!" _Shane stood up from where he sat by the fire they had built. He had taken his helm off, and it was at least a nice change to yell into the man's face for once.

"Would you prefer it didn't bother me?! Would you prefer that I would _want_ to talk about it?!" Cheshire yelled.

"I- I- I'm sorry I started this," Sarah peeped meekly from where she sat, her knees pulled up against her chin. She had innocently asked why Shane called Cheshire a demon, and Shane had decided to answer… in full.

"You have a right to know," Shane replied. "We all have a right to know what she's capable of."

Cheshire ran her hand through her hair and pulled in a shuddering breath. She was viciously angry - but couldn't do anything about it. "Why do you want me to be an outcast? I don't understand what I ever did to you, Shane, I… We're here, surrounded by things that want us dead, and you still try to pick a fight with me. Why?"

"Because you don't belong here," Shane said after a long pause. "You aren't one of us." Cheshire let that weigh on her for a moment, and was shocked at how much it hurt. Shane continued talking. "You are a murderer. Your power is born of chaos. You don't belong with us."

Cheshire took a step back, as if she had been physically struck. She shut her eyes, and let out a breath.

"Boy, shut your damn mouth," Yoseph said quietly, dangerously.

"It's fine, Yoseph," Cheshire responded. "He's right." She clenched her fists at her sides. "Can't fault a man for being right…" Everyone sat, stunned. Even Shane looked taken aback at her response. "You should just… be glad that those days are behind me, Paladin… or else I'd reach into your head and scramble it like so many eggs."

"Ches," Yoseph warned. She didn't listen.

"Do you know what I did to those people that I murdered, Shane? Do you know _how_ I killed them?" she asked, viciously.

"I-"

She didn't let him finish. "I made them feel what it was like to burn alive. I set them _on fire_ like they had done to my home - and what they had done to my friends. I chased them down, and I made their reality one of fire and death. _I burned them alive. _But if that isn't enough for you, Shane… I did it at half speed. I wanted them to _suffer._ I wanted them to feel the pain of their skin flaking off. Like they had so readily done to others. And when I was done? When the pain was too much? Their minds shut down. Their hearts shut down. I left them as corpses, untouched by smoke. You want a reason to be afraid of me, Shane? A real reason? There's one for you," she ranted. "I can make you believe your death so vividly that your heart stops beating," she finished in a low hiss.

The room was silent save for the crackling of the fire. Cheshire turned and began to walk away - to where, she had no clue. But she couldn't stay there. Not right now.

"Ches," Yoseph started. She stopped, but didn't turn around. He paused, clearly unsure of what to say. "Don't go far," he finished.

She nodded once and walked from the room and took a left down a stone hallway. The statues overhead stared at her as she walked. She wouldn't go far - but she needed enough distance so she didn't have to listen to them talk about what she had just said. So much for making progress.

She rounded another corner, and found herself in a small courtyard. The sky was open to the stars overhead, casting silvery light down on a small, ruined fountain in the center. The courtyard was largely overgrown, and the stone benches along the edges of the walls were cracked and overtaken with ivy.

It wasn't safe to be on her own. But she didn't have a choice. And if she was killed by a monster - Yoseph might mourn her. He would likely be the only one.

She walked up to the fountain and sat down on the edge of it. The statue in the center, a woman holding the second tier above her head, looked heart broken up at the stars - her features almost worn flat by the weather exposure. "I know, right?" she said morosely to the statue.

_**MmMmmmmm…. and whooooooo are yoooouuuu talking toooo?**_

Cheshire shot to her feet and whirled around, her eyes wide - something had spoken. Well… sort of spoken. She couldn't identify where the sound had come from. But there was no one there. "H… hello?"

_**You weren't talking to ME before, you were talking to Someone Else. Who were you talking toooo?**_

"No… No one… the statue, I guess?" Cheshire kept whirling around slowly - fear starting to build. But nobody was there… absolutely no one.

_**And they call ME insane! HAH.**_

"Where are you…?"

_**Hiding!**_

It's voice was whispery and deep - and came from everywhere and nowhere. "Why…?"

_**Don't know.**_

She paused, dumbfounded. She didn't know how to respond. Cheshire drummed her fingers on her thighs, and spoke up again. "Would you show yourself…?"

_**SURE.**_

As… something… took form… Cheshire suddenly regretted her question. A hooded figure rose up from the ground, its tattered cloth that hid its head tapering off into… nothing… as it floated over the ground. Its hands were black talons, floating severed from its torso - connected by nothing. A slow grinning smile formed across its face from underneath the hood.. and she knew it was there, as it was glowing like the teeth of a jack-o-lantern. one glowing eye opened, and locked its gaze on her.

So Cheshire did the only logical thing.

She screamed.


End file.
